Fire Emblem 6x5: Path of the Devil
by Aura-Twilight Swordsman
Summary: Shortly after leaving Nino with their children, Jaffar meets an odd, yet young swordsman from the other side of the Dragon's Gate. As Zephiel flaunts his military might in Bern, they vow to stop him. Yet will a mysterious girl stop their plans altogether?
1. Prologue

Fire Emblem 6.5

Prologue-The Virus

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of the mentioned characters, nor do I own any part of the Fire Emblem franchise. They and all other surrounding elements are all trademarks, excluding Aura, one of the protagonists.)

(Aura, a Swordmaster, is the story's main character. He is only half human (other part: Demon), but resides in an unknown part of the Dragon Realm. He has the extremely odd ability to open the link between the worlds of human and dragon. Locked away in the Dragon Realm because of being seen as a threat, he escapes mercilessly and kills a familiar face. He does this in search of interaction with even one human life, This is how the story begins...)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

...Drip..drip..drip. The sound, this very sound, can be heard by ears pressed against the walls of the Dragon's Gate. It's a sweet sound..so innocent sounding. The sound of blood. My favorite substance. These ancient gates wrought by unknown creators open at my wake. I can't help but lick my lips at the thought of another chance to kill. Yet I must not waste essential time. They chase me. The damned Dragons of the Scouring..vengeance they seek. The gates have finally opened. My eyes glitter at the green corridors. So massive this beautiful thing. I'm finally out of the hellhole of the Dragon's world. As astounded as I am, I have just enough sense to hear the roars behind me. The temperature for those few moments was unbearable. Streaks of red zoom past me as another light of red engulfs my sight. Pale..soft..strong..these same words describe my love. Yet I must not think of such things..they are now so petty. So..meaningless. At this time, I seal the gate, just barely after seeing one of the beasts running full speed. Full speed.. with the flame of its breath in hot pursuit. Blazing, tantalizing light. It was almost alluring, making me yearn to return to that world. Yet life anew was what the Humans would give me. I could not face death..no. My requiem shall be soon, yet I must dance some more to the music mortality shall feed me. The creature's right claw was excruciating severed as the gate closed. I could never see my home again. But one hope remained: the dripping started once more...the proclaimed "Son of Destiny" was alive..this child the Dragons call..

Nils

The swordsman stopped at the center of the lime tile. He had a colossal sack made of straw on his back, spanning merely ten feet. The bag wriggled when dropped. Someone was indeed inside of the suffocating sack. The figure came out of the Gate's cast shadows. So evil his intentions, and his face so beautiful, not suited for a killer. His skin like powder, his soft lips cherry red. Flowing black hair spanned to the mid back, a tuft covering the left eye. His visible eye was slanted in such a snarl, the green flames of the room seemed to arch back. His eye was a delicate hazel, and his figure was almost bone slim. A red robe covered the rest of his features, yet that did not matter.

A conspicuous bamboo sheath (nearly double the size of a katana) rested on his right hip Carefully with gentle hands he ripped open the sack laid next to him to reveal a body. The body was unmistakably that of the child, Nils, bloodied from head to toe by faint slashes. Yet so many existed, you could swear he was battered. the man, Aura, forcibly picked the child up by the neck with his right hand and placed his left hand on the bamboo sheath, removing a large, double-edged Wo Dao sword. He pointed the blade dead-aimed at the child's mouth and asked a question. His face oddly calmed, and his voice was soft like a warm breeze. "Child, I have borrowed you from your land in pursuit of Humans to live with. You say you can show me Humans...where can I find them?" Nils was persistent in resiting Aura's questions. It seemed he was attempting to answer sarcastically, yet was taunting his captor with deliberate stutters. He said, struggling, "you...agh..you're.. asking me the wrong..question." Aura did nothing, other than tighten his hold on the dragon boy, asking again:

"A dead dragon has no use to me. Where are the humans." This time, the boy was too weak to answer, so the red swordmaster angered. In a fury he threw Nils on the ground, placing the blade in his right hand, then towards Nils. He was now in a complete state of suffering. A specific wound in his side was very grave. He had not a lot of time left, dying on the cold marble floor. His final true words were: "I..have no..no information of such..by the time you find..ach..find the life you seek..you won't need me. I see...friends..friends on the outside..that will stop your..your twisted adventure!" The menacing creature did nothing but grin, revealing a pair of pearly white fangs, akin to those of a ravenous vampiric. He merely spat the last cold words the ice dragon would ever hear: "Thank you. Now you can die knowing you were ever good for anything." The boy's glazed eyes went into shock not from the fear of death, but by the piercing words he felt defined most of his own life. The large sword was transfixed into his mouth, then raised up so he dangled like rotisserie meat. In a few seconds, the child was dead.

The robed teen Aura, a soul no older than 15, slid his victim off the sword to leave his body to rot in the Dragon's Gate for the rest of eternity..a sad death for one so bright and young. "Perfect..I kidnap one of their kin, and this is what they offer. Quite frankly, I feel I'm doing the beasts a favor. Yet they told me something..he was not all Dragon. That..man..his father. In my cell, I heard the name..Nergal. That could have been my best friend. From rumors..we have so much in common. Shame.." Aura walked off slowly from the gate, glancing at the dragon claw, then at the boy Nils, almost sympathetically. Then suddenly that bloodthirsty look reappeared in his eyes as he paced his steps one by one..one by one...he was truly eager to see the outside: "Like a virus...the killing fever shall spread..so I shall make new friends...yes...I can hardly wait..."

In Elibe, relative peace continued. Eliwood and Ninian had recently enjoyed their wedding. Thanks to the tactician, Hilma, they planned to named their son, Roy. Things were good in spite of the tragedies to come. Believe it or not, many people wed over the course of the post-war years. Hector of Ostia eventually married a mercenary by the name of Farina, and Lyn had married Rath, the silent warrior of the Kutola. Many more loves spawned, almost too many to count. Yet one seemed to blossom more than the others. A little girl of fourteen years named Nino wed a once cold assassin she worked with during the war. The man went by the name of Jaffar, possibly around sixteen. Disregarding that minor setback, their happiness blossomed...until that one day. A few years after the two settled, a new story began.

The cheery girl Nino came into the couple's small hut with a metal bucket full of water. Two rags lay on the sides of the bucket, and she skipped merrily to see her husband. "Jaffar," the woman said with an obvious smile, "don't you think it's about time for the boys to get their baths?" Jaffar, once thought of as a man without emotion, became distressed as he craddled his two twins, hence named Ray and Lugh. "These children..you think they'd have run out of energy from this crying.." He was barely heard over the bawling of their twins. What was clear in the noise was the innocent giggling of the young mother. She sarcastically responded to his sentence with a remark of her own. "You think a man who could wield a sword could also control his own child. Just get them cleaned up and I'll take care of the rest." Rolling his eyes, Jaffar did as his wife asked and helped to bathe the children.

Yet the difficult task would be cleaning up the water the children splashed up. Again, Nino had more to say about Jaffar's parenting skills. "There. Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" she stated while getting them dressed. "It must be something about you women that makes us so ineffective", he replied. "It's not that, silly!" she said clearly perked up once more. "I just think you need to enjoy life more, Jaffar. Taking care of these kids is easy once you get the hang of it. I can just imagine all the things we'll teach them, all the conversations we'll have. Don't you think?" "Let's just hope we get them to clean themselves up", he said, quickly grabbing a sponge to mop up the water. "I-":Before Nino had a chance to say more, an arrow soared right through the house. It was flamed with and quickly spreading, so Jaffar quickly doused it with the tub water. Nino, still stunned, turned to ask him: "W-What was th-that?" In a serious tone he replied, "it's them...duck for cover!" And so in that instant, it was clear who the attackers were. The Black Fang was back..and out for revenge..

End

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(if you've seen the two's A-support ending, you know how this turns out.)

(I made this in about a half hour, so sorry if you feel the depth isn't so strong. But it'll get better. R&R please.)


	2. Chapter 1: Broken Petals

Fire Emblem 6.5

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of the mentioned characters, nor do I own any part of the Fire Emblem franchise. They and all other surrounding elements are all trademarks, excluding Aura.)

------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter1- Broken Petals

"A love no love could compare to." These are the words to use for the depth of these assassins. Jaffar and Nino...husband and wife..lovers and parents..the couple divided. The day where all they had crumbled right before their eyes. The day where blood was almost cried by a heartbroken mother. Their tragedy. Their story. His alliance. And where does the robed assailant fit in this puzzle of deceit and sorrow? These questions..so many questions..shall now be answered.

Another arrow flew through the homes of the couple, breaking a purchased antique: a grey clay pot. The assailants were skilled. Not the brigands dispatched in the waring times. Not even the generals of the united countries. These were none other than the assassins of the Black Fang, the group in which the two lovers rebelled. Jaffar released a sigh of relief, seeing as the misfired arrow was not oiled, unable to cause more danger. Hurriedly looking at his wife and children, he whispers to them: "Get underneath the table. It seems to be out of the range of the archers." A frightened Nino hoarsely responds to her husband. "Who..who are these people?"

"These are archers, and skilled ones at that. I believe these men not to be Morphs. No. They're far more skilled than that. These are Sacaens. Nino, it is not safe for us here. Take the children and escape through the back. I'll distract them." As these words were uttered, three arrows pierced through the straw and mud walls. Before either had the chance to speak, a fourth arrow was lodged into Jaffar's right bicep. With this, Nino let out a piercing scream and laid the babies quietly on the ground, rushing to his aid. "Jaffar! Jaffar! Don't move. I can help you. You're wounds-" "Are nothing", the man responded, obviously in pain. "It was luck that had them hit me. Go! Quickly!" His tearful love did as he asked, picking up her children and not looking back as she ran. Unbeknownst to the two. The assailants of the group surrounded the front of the house, with reinforcements in tow. The men's horses wore the same basic clothing of the Nomadic Troopers. The reigns and decorations were dyed to a transparent orange and blue, and the mustangs the men possessed had a beautiful coat of yellow.

The men however, were not as graceful as their steeds. Each wore the black and purple coats symbolizing the remnants and hopeful revival of the Fang. The apparent leader and his horse broke into the home, his neck-long orange hair flowing and his yellow eyes out for blood. He merely uttered the words: "Hitokiri..(Japanese. Translated to Human/Person Slayer.)..hitokiri. Where have you gone hitokiri?" His eyes lit up when he finally scanned Jaffar behind a loose and rotted support beam. He readied his deer skin bow and wooden arrow to aim for Jaffar's head. Little did he know..he was dealing with Death's own angel.

Meanwhile, in a nearby thicket in the forest outside their doors, Nino and her children hide from the onslaught of warriors. Every passing minute seemed like an hour, and a large lump developed in her throat. Her heart was pulsing, and she found it very hard to swallow. Her children, Lugh and Ray were unusually calm during the ordeal, and fell asleep in the midst of the slew of arrows. Her shaky hands stopped as she felt warm breathing around her neck.

Her face went blank until she felt a familiar warm hand and voice caress her. "I'm right here to guide you. You don't have to be afraid now." She almost sobbed from knowing that Jaffar was fine. In the house, the fallen leader went without reinforcements, foolishly spending valuable time in the long run for reinforcements to arrive. His stomach brutally sawed open and a pulsating heart on the floor near his cracked ribs, seemingly every ounce of intestines and blood spewed from the corpse of this unfortunate man. The shocked expression on his lifeless face showed that he had truly met with the Angel of Death.

Outside of the front door, his horse laid still whinnying on the ground, an arrow impaled in its stomach. Meanwhile in the forest, the couple thought of a plan to escape the oncoming nomads. "Nino..don't cry from what I'm about to tell you," Jaffar, without emotion said, "What do you...could you mean, Jaffar?" a smile appearing on Nino's face. "The two of us could never keep secrets from the other. So what are you saying?" "Nino..I love you and our children more than anything in this world. I couldn't bear to leave you." A worried expression now appeared on her face. "What are you saying? You can't-" She was cut off abruptly:

"Enough! Do you know what happens to people like me. It's not the family they want to kill..it's me. I have to leave you..to protect you." Obviously, nothing but tears and sputtering came from Nino's mouth at the mentioning of her husband's words. "Ja-Jaf..Jaffar..no..come with us! You-" Again, she was interrupted. Yet to her shock, her husband looked away, a single tear dropping from his eye. His following speech would break her heart forever. "You don't have to say anything. You talked of how much we would teach our children..how much time we had. That will never happen. These children..it's their father's fault..his fault that they will never see him. You'll be incomplete without me..and I without you. You don't know how much I'll miss you. And how much I'll miss them.

Their first words..their first smiles...their joys..their sadness. Good fathers see these things..they encourage them. They tell their children to live their lives..but I'm doing this to save theirs. When these children talk of where daddy has gone and what he was like..don't tell them of how he was once this cold-blooded killer you see now." Jaffar paused to break down for these things he's said..he prays for forgiveness for the man he's killed and cries for every moment he'll never have with his children. His love does the same, in shock of his emotional display. When he regains his composure..he finishes with: "But tell them..of the love we shared..and how much I would love them..if I had another chance..." With this he embraces her for the last time in a hard and passionate kiss, knowing that would most likely be the last of the kind. He dashes into the forest, hoping that with these new words and feelings, his wife..his love..his broken petal would live on. The once so blooming flower of love..withered in such a short time. The rotting petals...they are what remain.

Yet she was speechless.

She fixed her head onto the view of the ground, caressing her children as she held them in her arms..and she cried. She cried for the pain she felt..the pain her children would feel..and the pain of losing the love you worked so hard to build. She just wanted to die. And this nearly came true. Men in rows of three, at least sixty of them were positioned in back of Nino on horseback. They spread out and fixed their arrows on her and the babies and asked in synchrony: "Where is the man, Jaffar? The murderer who killed our leader?" Nino raised herself furiously to the aid of Jaffar's reputation. "You t-talk no such words of him! He is a great man!" The men remained silent, and merely raised their bows in preparation to fire. Nino fearfully placed her babies behind her, beginning to cast a Thunder spell. She had a feeling she was to die. And this is how she would want to remember herself. Yet at that instant, the earth seemed to stand still. The skies became red and the clouds rolled across them in a charcoal black and no breathing could be heard. In a few seconds, red lightning struck one man.

As the rest fired their arrows at a dumbfounded Nino, she let out a mute scream. In a whirlwind that broke the sound barriers, the arrows snapped before her, inches from her dazed face. In another few seconds, every reinforcement in the Black Fang squad lay dead with not a scratch on them. As suddenly as it came, the red horizon rolled away. In front of the three survivors was none other than the man from the Dragon's Gate. He told her right before she fainted..: "Thank you.." Nino awoke the next day so far from her home, she thought she was in a different country. And that she was. She and Jaffar settled near the outskirts of Bern and she awoke, unknown to her, on the border of Lycia and Bern. An oversized church and a fortress her head rested on were the first things she saw in the morning light. The church was labeled the Elimine orphanage. On each side of her, she heard a sleeping Lugh and Ray. Yet just as she was about to pick them up to cradle, she saw a locket on her lap. It was her mother's blood-stained locket she gave to Jaffar as a keepsake. Just holding it reminded her of him, and she cried again.

And in one of Bern's forests, Jaffar rested breathless on and oak tree, bloodied by the numerous thorns of the forest..Rest was surely needed for someone in his case. He thought not a man was visible for 100 miles, when as suddenly as before, the robed child came. His sword pointed outward. The odd sword glowed and emitted a green aura. Since his back was facing Jaffar, he turned his neck and eerily looked at him with a psychotic look, asking:

"You're the Angel of Death..Jaffar? Can we be friends?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

End of Phase 1

(Chapter 2 should be up by this Friday. Hope you enjoy. By the way, for even the slightly squeamish, it's a guarantee the next installment will be 13+. R&R? )


	3. Chapter 2: Aura vs Jaffar: Fire vs Dark

Fire Emblem 6.5

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of the mentioned characters, nor do I own any part of the Fire Emblem franchise. They and all other surrounding elements are all trademarks, excluding Aura.)

Chapter 2- Aura vs. Jaffar: Fire vs. Darkness

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The light shone steadily through the cracks in the forests. The bushy trees high above the ground bobbed up and down as if they were greeting the sun's gently rays. On the ground, the lush ferns and tulips swayed crazily in an inexplicable wind that was brought with the presence of the cold-hearted killers. Aura smiled and licked his dry lips as he turned around to fully see this new face. Jaffar, still tired by his trip away from home, could only grimace at the site of the boy's unsightly expression.

He slowly rose from the soil..unbalanced and unrested. Even so, he slipped his fingers into the space between his dark green doublet and clutched his two prized Killing Edges. Aiming his right dagger at his acquaintance, he begins to spark a conversation. With an unusually cold voice, he asks him: "Child, what business do you have in a place like this? Go home or else." For moments there was no response. Jaffar speaks again, this time quiet hesitantly. "You're..dangerous..I...I'm not going to fight you."

Aura's smile faded into a frown, almost as if offended by the assumption that he would fight. Yet this was only temporary, as he showed his signature fangs to prepare for an interesting encounter. "My, my. You people have quite bad manners. I ask you a yes or no question, and you so rudely respond to me," he says, sarcastically feigning that he was offended. He continued to speak. "I have no desire to fight. However.." The enigma began to form a fighting stance. Surprisingly, he flung his robe of to reveal his true clothing.

He had an opened overcoat of the same color as the robe. The collars and cuffs, the former being open as well, were a faint gold, and the buttons and links on both were made of a false ivory. The bottom lining of the coat, akin to the robe once more, appeared to be a crossed of genuine gold and mithril. Underneath this was a tight and sleeveless leather black vest that was exposed in all places, excluding the shoulder. Heavy, cotton, timber colored pants with some satchels on each hip were cut off at the knee by brown leather boots that obviously fit tight. With gentle hands, he brushed a few extra strands of hair away from his face and began to form the stance.

Aura crouched to the ground with his right leg forward, twisted to the side so his ankle was out front. As his left leg simply bent for support, his head curved downward in the same direction it was. His right arm stretched out all the way, parallel to his head. As his right arm held the center of both swords, his left middle and index lightly tapped the tip of the bottom blade, fondling it slightly. He was in the perfect position for a leaping attack.

Jaffar, however, stood his ground. He took two steps forward and, with the distance of about 8 feet now, aimed the right blade at his current opponent's head. The two seemed poised for an odd battle, yet the much older He attempted to speak his way out of the situation."You can't be serious. You seem at least 7 years younger than I. However..however. You seem much like me at that age..something about you. I have not the time nor the energy to engage in petty battles. Desist, and we may go our separate ways."

He seemed much older than when he was 16. Other than his removed headwear, very few things changed about his clothing, though . At 25, however, one thing that changed was his face, a slightly shaved red moustache and trimmed beard being the key differences. His hair was also straightened out significantly, reaching to just an inch below the shoulder line.

The attacker, once unsure of attacking, let out a laugh that seemed to span the entire forest. He could think of so many responses to the request that he didn't even think the offer was funny anymore. "Try not to make me laugh so much", Aura whispered, licking the fangs he bared. "You have absolutely no idea how different we are from one another. Jaffar, my...acquaintance..perhaps you should keep your mouth shut like the rest of my kill."

Unlike full-blooded humans, Aura's aging was extremely complex. A demon's year is equivalent to 2 human years. As a demon, he was fifteen. On the other hand, he was thirty, and looked no older than twenty. This still never stopped his instinct. "Already, it seems that words to persuade you are useless," Jaffar regretably uttered. "In that case, yet another man's death will be on my conscience. Rest in peace."

In nothing short of a blur, he hopped on all fours, blades still in hand, and disappear from the scene. Aura grimaced as he saw that his target would be much more complex than the last. Dumbfounded by the random action, he scouted the area for Jaffar, oddly holding his stance. He was shocked as he heard a gust of wind behind him. As he turned around, he saw nothing but a blade slice down on him. The next action would defy the physics set by mankind.

Right before the blade came down, Aura used his left leg to spring away from the slice, remaining in mid-air for a few moments. To counterattack, using only the right hand, he takes the bottom blade to block the Edge from hitting the dirt, while still suspended. He lands on the floor and quickly clutches the blade with both hands to swing down on a stumbling Jaffar, who swiftly takes his left Edge to block the impact, stunned for a little bit due to the vibration. Still, the attacks resume. In the form of the Cross, Jaffar takes his swords to lock Aura's top blade in a stalemate. Aura kicks him away to swing the sword diagonally across his chest. The attack hits, yet Jaffar arched away so only a slight cut could be dealt to the breasts. In a hasty move he throws both of his Edges at his opponent, attempting to distract him.

As he bounces the daggers off, He sneaks from behind just in time to deal a punch in the cheek. He violently attacks a stunned Aura by picking up his Edges, lodging one near the bottom of the stomach, and using the other to slash the battered cheek. Wincing and giving shrill cries of pain, he drops his large katanas to clutch his stomach. "I'd best keep in in there. Wouldn't..agh..won't disturb..the cut." Again in a merciless fashion, Jaffar runs at Aura to remove the lodged dagger in a matter of seconds, causing more screaming and bleeding by a losing fighter. Considering his stamina, Aura dashes toward his nearby sword to point at him, all the meanwhile holding back the flowing blood of the wound. "Dammit..you're better than I gave you credit for. Heh. You..you'll still lose, though." He gives a menacing grin at the opponent who he underestimated, causing him to once more try to convince him to quit the fight.

"You can't go on. Your wounds are too grave. If you don't stop now..surely you'll die." Reluctantly, he refused to give in, wishing to further improve his skills by fighting this seeming unbeatable Challenger. "F-Fool..you talk as though you have a card. L-L-Look behind..you.." Steadily pacing back, obviously distrustful, Jaffar turns back to see what looks like another Aura- perfectly fit, with only a few drop of blood near the stomach and a bruised cheek. As soon as he turns around, the two already gang up on him. Silently, Aura and his look-alike lodge their blades directly through Jaffar, then pulling them out to deliver, to the man in front, a slash to the right collarbone. To the one in back, there was a slice aimed for his left tricep.

He knelled to the ground slowly on both knees, looking above as he saw the red clones hovering over him. He was only in a position to ask questions. "How the hell? Ngh..why..why are there two of you?" "Simple my acquaintance," both seemed to utter. "Because there aren't. It's an illusion. As you know, I have some quick footsteps. All I have to do is run back and forth between two close points in order to generate two or more of me. In reality..I just attacked you four times..not two each. But enough of that. How would you like your death: slow and painful, or quick and painful?"

Jaffar, still kneeling, only grinned at the copies. "Behind..you.." As he faded back into one person, Aura's face goes blank as he realizes that about 8 Killing Edges surrounded his neck. There were indeed 3 copies of Jaffar surrounding Aura."A-an imitation! How?" "You shouldn't reveal your tricks so openly," he said, with a still injure twitch in his left eye. "Now, time to end this." Lowering the edges, the copies form a line in front of Aura. The one in front kicked him so strongly it was about double his height. The second stopped him from falling by knocking the wind out of him with a stomach punch, tossing him to the third, who repeatedly sliced him across his torso with both Edges. Without a sound, before the seemingly defeated character had a chance to fall, he felt a hand land on his right shoulder.

"You said it wasn't over yet. You were so right. Now...the job is finished." Deciding not to kill him, he felt around Aura's shoulder for the socket, quickly popping the bone out of the slot, making it quite ineffective. Without a sound, he thudded to the ground, just barely conscious. He held his defenseless body up by one arm as he heard the footsteps of a victorious Jaffar disappear. "Get back..come back here!"

Jaffar merely ignored him, thinking he could pose no threat in the lighted forest. That was until he heard a menacing breathing. It was hoarse..unsteady..and almost evil. He turned back to see nothing but a black- not even grey smoke appear from his challenger. Except this time..it wasn't his challenger. It was a man completely different from this. A dark creature surfaced from what seemed to be burnt clothes and ashes. In it's place is what seemed like the devil himself. The shirtless creature was slightly shorter than Aura, yet made up for quite a bit of brawniness. The skin was charred black beyond all recognition. gloves covered what could possibly be mutilated hands.

His chest and arms were covered with numerous silver and shiny scars. His hair was nothing but black flame, pointing like spiky hair about 8 inches above the scalp. It seemed to wear large, baggy cotton pants with oversized ebony boots that started from just above the ankle. The right leg was covered by a large dark grey cloth that drooped to the top of the boots. The eyelids were badly scraped, and the eyes were an painful yellow. Worst of all, the once inconspicuous fangs grew to phenomenal proportions, the bottom ones rising to about two inches, the tops to about three. In the palms of his hands, seemingly balancing him was what looked like an giant butcher knife, covered in white bandages to hide the actual weapon. The battle wasn't over. It seemed like it was just beginning.

Jaffar backed away as the monster stepped towards him. His heart felt like it was about to pop out of his chest. He could barely keep a grip on his daggers, and he couldn't help but try to gulp down every lump that surfaced inside of his throat. To test the enemy's strength, he tossed his dagger. His face almost dropped as his prized weapon evaporated before his eyes in a dark mist..almost effortlessly. The creature uttered it's first words in a voice that sounded like a never ending thunder. "Hello, Angel. You killed me. You killed the things that made me like you. Say hello to what I am. Say hello..to the Daemon."

In a flash, the creature was face-to-face with him..in the moment of a heartbeat. It grasped his throat with ease as it saw the hidden fear in his eyes. It played with him by throttling him back and forth with the right hand. The blade still rested comfortably in the left. As it seemed as if all was lost, the creature evaporated much as the way it came, revealing the same Aura who was recently defeated. He let go of a half-unconscious Jaffar and the two of them passed out, drained of all energy to twitch, or even move for that matter. There they would lay until the next morning, when Aura awoke from a long sleep, resting on a tree branch. He looked around frantically for him, injuring his popped arm in the process. He let out an exasperated and injured groan as he could find nothing. "I'm here if you're searching." He looked below his dangling legs to find an equally injured Jaffar, looking above at the boy who searching for him.

Before Aura had time to yell his slew of murderous threats, the pain intensified in supposedly ever part his body was cut. In turn he fell from the tree, just barely being caught by him, who had to drop him because of the pain he experienced as well. Blood began to flow from the corners of Aura's mouth as he attempted to utter some words. "You..you truly are a human. I think I'll like your kind. I guess..this makes us friends?" Jaffar, having no idea what Aura was talking about, gave him a look of disgust as he walked off and left him on the ground.

"Not even close...we're acquaintances.."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

End of Phase 2

(Again, asking for someone to review hears echo Oo Oooo.k. I couldn't help but post this. In contradiction to what I said earlier, I'll post next...whenever. R&R! R...R...R...)


	4. Chapter 3: Our Paths Are Crossing Again

Fire Emblem 6.5

Chapter 3- Our Paths Are Crossing Again

(Insert Unecessary Disclaimer Here)

OOC: Yes! The bold print has been omitted from the chapter, so the result shouldn't be so painstakingly difficult to read. As you can see, Chappie 3 had to go bye-bye :3..not the right place in the story. When this side tale is finished, I'll probably repost it. Until then. By the way, finding a usage checker is virtually impossible (if it exists :(), so please excuse my using (e.g you're instead of your or anything that bypassed the speelcheck)

Aura: You should give me a cameo..:P

* * *

Our story shall now break away from the tales of our established hero and villains.The events that take place from here on will state the happenings of the monarchy superpower known as Bern. Comparable in mass to the nearby country of Etruia, no country has had the courage to stand up to Bern's might in fear of starting a full-scale war. What few know, however, is one of the the country's many dark secrets. Citizens were aware of the emotional feud between the king and queen going on for some time. Yet when Queen Hellene passed on some time ago, before that was an onslaught of battery, hatred, and even a rumored assasination. Even in midst of this trouble, the government's "Crowned Jewels" flourished. Prince Zephiel and Princess Guinevere: at some point, one of these two were destined to become a firm voice to influence all of Elibe. For now, though... 

Bern Manse, 11 Years before the Second Scouring

It is indeed surprising that, in the center of the day, the castle stood silent. The halls had no serfs to attend to the noble's rooms. No maiden was present to clean the pantries. No even a thread of tapestry moved inside on any corridor. What had been responsible for the quiet? In actuality, the kingdoms laborers lay in their own rooms, given the day off by the crown prince himself. In the echoing throne room, he had merely been seated by the main throne, gazing at the large, gold-finished hinged door that was placed smack in the center of the rectangular sitting place. Zephiel sat with a melancholy expression, only slightly lightened by his sister's nearby conversation with a nearby guard. With his head laying on the palm of his hand, his glazed eyes switched slyly to the right to get a glimpse of the two. "Milady, surely you cannot have me rest while your security is at risk!" bellowed the obese watchman. "This "break" as you so calmly put it can do nothing but harm. What if a thief enters the castle? What if a nearby province send an army. Or if the entire continent itself would-" Guinevere payed almost no attention to her guard's detestment to her suggestion. Merely looking at him with a warm smile and a suppressed giggle, she politely ended his rambling with a few words of her own. "Sir Ferdinand, you can't honestly mean that. For nearly the past decade, not one trouble has truly offset the balance of nature here. In fact, with the sentries volunteering, no harm could be done without prior notice. You honestly have been overworked these past few weeks. Some time to yourself shouldn't be so much of a disaster."

Again, quiet befell the room where the dispute had been halted. That was until the guard let out a hearty laugh from his girth at his own expense. "Aha! The Princess indeed prepared before the time comes. Maybe she is correct in those words. Very well! I shall retire to my quarters for now. You will be seeing me on the morrow to defend Her Majesty once more!" And with that, the man waddled through one of the smaller doors on each side of the thrones, and left. In a sense, he was now dumbfounded by the conversation. Giving a light sigh, he turned his head in order to speak to his sister. "You honestly do have a knack for simplifying things," he barely whispered. "Do you, my sister, for a second truly think Father will allow this without his leave?" Guinevere merely gave a quick nod because of her success and responded. "Dear brother, you make it sound so...negative. I only want to ensure that our loyal guards receive fair treatment. I am sure that Father will understand." "If you must have it that way," he responded with a hidden smirk, giving up on winning an argument with his younger sister. As the chapter in that small book closed, a ferocious yell rang through the western end of the building. The sound was so loud that a family of crows perched on one of the roofs frantically fled, leaving a slew of feathers floating in the sky. The voice yelling was that of Desmond, the current king of Bern and the siblings' father. Though muffled, one could decribe the voice as yelling, "ZEPHIEL?! WHAT BUSINESS DOES THAT BLASTED BOY HAVE WITH PALACE AFFAIRS?!" Many rushed out in an attempt to pacify the king, but they fail due to fact that he was too angry to listen to reason. He raised one hand to burst open a door leading to the throne chamber. From there, the corridor split into three directions, Desmond taking the left one as he mumbled to himself the entire time.

Reaching the end of the hall, he again flung open the door to enter the room where his children sat. Stroking his mustache, the way he usually did as a habit when angered, he surprisingly did not yell. However, while giving a cold glare at his son he uttered some angry words in a nonchalant tone. "In these 24 years I have raised you, this should not have surprised me. I awoke at around midday due to the extensive matters I had to attend to concerning the national welfare last night...very tiresome indeed. Immediately after I awoke, I summoned a maiden to bring me a small cup of wine to ease my headache. Do you know what she told me? "The prince had given most of the workers a brief relaxation period. We will be settling down for most of the day." ...Do you know how MUCH that infuriates me?!" As his father then began to ramble on about just how much the event infuriated him, the prince tried his best to explain himself. "Father, when these people where dismissed, I meant no harm to you. They had seemed overexerted." "No harm, boy? I will-!" "It was I, Father," the Princess blurted to stop the argument. "Brother had nothing to do with this mishap. If you must reprimand someone, I should be the one to blame." Flabbergasted by his own behavior, the king turned his eyes to his daughter to speak to her. "G-Gui...this was your doing?" "Yes, Father," she meekly responded. With this knowledge, the once unsettled king was reduced to his regular demeanor, only lecturing his daughter at most. "This girl of mine..honestly! I demand the servers be put back to work as of now. I will return to my quarters. Yet I promise this, daughter: if you defy me in such a way again, the consequences will be far more severe."

With that, King Desmond of Bern left just the way that he had arrived: stomping, grumbling, and all. "I will return in a few hours," Zephiel said, embittered by his father's biased assumption. "Guinevere, I trust that you will be able to maintain things until then." "But-!" Before she had time to say anything other than, she watched as her brother gripped his key to open the main door, flying through the crease as soon as it opened. The slam resounded for a few more seconds, until the only sound left was that of a lonely woman and her conscience, regretting the mistake that had caused much discord. "Father...why do you hate my brother so?" she lamented as she gazed upon her lap, a slight blur affecting her vision. Wiping the drops away with a stroke of her red velvet sleeve, Guinevere calmly left to attend to the castle. Alas, silence was the victor in this pageant of contempt.

Meanwhile, concerning the prince, the day had become dark. Being able to slip past security determined to confine him, he found himself strolling through the courtyard in the back of the castle. Letting out a large sigh, he stood in the center of the lush field and began to reminisce. It was quite obvious that he and his father were never on agreeable terms. This started from his childhood and eventually worsened. It was in this yard that Guinevere had received a pet from her brother's hunting trip...where Desmond had condemn the boy's mere presence...and where the assassination attempt on the boy's life was so foully planned. "Disgusting", Zephiel uttered. "It seems that in this time...I have become bitter. On no terms can I agree with Father. Through youth I have tried my absolute best to gain his favor. In the meantime, I have received almost nothing in return. It is even a fact that in this very spot, that dark night was caused by-" "Ah! Help!" A cry rang out in the bushes. "Who is there?!" the nobleman hurriedly questioned. The voice was that of a woman, apparently snagged in a thorn bush. He cautiously stepped forward to get a good look at the victim. It was a girl of about his own age, if not older. Her attire, at best, was quite shameful: a peasant's brown rags sewn together with cheap orange string, tearing at the hem. Her hair was a violet red, straight and flowing to her backside. In her worried and teary eyes was a hint of either purple or brown: extremely difficult to determine given the situation. Her supple and slim figure were completely hidden by a tattered mess. When Zephiel slowly reached his gloved hand outward to lend a hand, seemingly out of nowhere, the girl pulled a dagger from a cotton pouch, imploring him to stay back.

"Be calm," he soothingly replied. "The wound on your ankle seems grave. You'll have to get it fixed. By the way, what are you doing here?" She maintained her fearful look and edged away, her skin still ripping from the thorn. Stopping to wince in pain, she looked at him. "G-Go away! I don't need any help from you. I...came here for food: the village needs it. If you do not let me go-" "You'll do what?" Zephiel retorted. "You truly are a member of the lower class. Tell me: what harm do you think will befall you if I have nothing to gain from it. Come closer. I'll bring you inside. You can have all the time you wish. I will merely remain here." One minute then passed...then two, maybe even three. The prince started for the castle gate, when at that moment... "You...promise I will not be harmed?" she muttered, hoping to be heard. "Not one word," as he took her by the hand, careful to remove the stray vines from the girl's path. "I will lead you to the dungeon. Rest assured, not a hand will touch you until you recuperate. Before we go..your name, if I may."

"Brenya," a now bashful woman piped with the strength she had. "What a lovely name," Prince Zephiel commented. "Let us go now. i know a certain someone who would be pleased to make your acquaintance.

* * *

End 


End file.
